Fine and Precious: A Paper Towns Oneshot
by Survivable
Summary: Set before the novel's main events, will Q be able to pluck up the courage to tell Margo what he really thinks?


**Paper Towns: Margo and Quentin Oneshot**  
Quentin turned at the sudden breeze that entered his bedroom, averting his gaze to the now open window. It was Margo, dressed in a tight pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt that finished just below her waist, her hair falling almost mesmerizingly just below her shoulders. Her eyes flashed in Quentin's direction, staring him up and down from head to toe, as if trying to deduce as much as she could from his presence.

"Quentin, nice to see you up so late." Her lips were ragged and visibly chewed, her tongue seeming to lick the blood off them as she spoke. Quentin couldn't help but fix his eyes on the girl in front of him.  
"History project," he spluttered, "due in tomorrow. Got to finish it, don't want Mr Burns to give me another detention, you know." He gulped as he finished his sentence, realising he'd messed up. His words seemed to slur out whenever he was around Margo and he was tragically unable to control his tongue.

"Oh, a project? That's news to me. Say, did you get that while I was off out adventuring?" Margo had been gone for almost a week. Her parents weren't the type to worry though, their daughter often took it upon herself to explore the city. Quentin looked downwards at the wooden floor, nodding slightly and making a weak attempt to smile in his nervousness.

"Just got back from exploring a little of New York City. Thought I'd drop by and say hello to my old friend Q, you know, that kid I found the dead guy with back in the day. Nice to see you're still well and functioning and your life's going just fine." She laughed at her bleak humour, still eyes fixed on Quentin. He half-smiled once again and sat down at his desktop computer, opening up a Word Document, trying to find a way to make himself look busy.

"What's up Q?" Margo was good at reading people, something she claimed to have learnt whilst travelling.

"Not much," he replied, biting his upper lip.

"Then why're you so embarrassed and shy all of a sudden? Come on, loosen up! I'm that same girl you used to tell all of your little secrets to when we were kids." Margo motioned upwards with her shoulders and gave a low-pitch giggle, as if recounting her childhood memories. Quentin continued to type on his computer, clearly trying to avoid any sort of conversation with Margo, who was practically hanging out of his bedroom window at 11pm at night.

Margo jumped up slightly all of a sudden, opening her mouth into the shape of an O and smiling. She spoke tauntingly yet with innocence, the kind of tone you hear children using in kindergarten playgrounds.

"You're making those faces you used to make when we were younger," she pointed her finger at him before continuing, "the kind you made when you liked a girl but didn't want to admit it. Oh, Q, stop it!" She pretended to be flattered, over-dramatising her actions to add to the humour of their conversation.  
Quentin had turned a deep shade of scarlet, embarrassed and bewildered by the whole situation.

"Oh, admit it Q!"

He swivelled around in his chair towards Margo, who was now leaning into his bedroom on the tips of her toes.

"Okay, um, alright. Yeah, I do a bit." He stuttered his words, only darkening the colour of his glowing red cheeks.

Margo beamed. "I knew it! I've known it all along! Oh, Q, I like you too."

"You like me? Wh-what? Why would a girl like you like me?"

Margo smiled gently before lifting up her leg and climbing over the window sill into Quentin's bedroom. She smoothed town her t-shirt and placed herself on his bed.

"What's not to like, hey?" She rolled her eyes back, "we've been friends since we were toddlers, Q, I know you. Sure, we haven't hung out for a few years now, but that's not to say we're not friends anymore. No, wait," she paused briefly, "I don't want to be friends anymore. I want to be more than friends."

Quentin took in a gulp of air, pinching himself to check this wasn't a dream. It wasn't. Margo Roth Spie gelman had just asked him to be her boyfriend. Lost for words, he stayed silent, gazing at her black polished shoes.

"Come here Q," Margo whispered.

He moved towards her, stopping a few centimetres away from her feet.

As if instantaneously, Margo pulled his face towards her own and placed her lips upon his. He could taste her berry lip balm within seconds, their lips rising and falling together. It seemed to last a lifetime, and as he pulled away he could feel her strong, gasping breaths against his neck.

"I'm sorry," Margo begun, "I'm sorry for abandoning you all these years. I'm sorry, Q. Forgive me?"  
Quentin smiled.

"I'll forgive you, Margo. So long as you never take me near a dead body in a park again."

She smiled and laughed.


End file.
